


it's been one week since you looked at me

by neoncanvas21



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Can't have that, Gen, Jay (Disney)-centric, because if it were all Aladdin they'll end up communicating, but we'll see how far i get, the chapters alternate between Jay+Aladdin and Jay+another, the concept is a, will add more tags as they happen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25516438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neoncanvas21/pseuds/neoncanvas21
Summary: Jay spends a week in Agrabah and gets to know the royal family.D1: ArrivalD2: AzizD3: Aladdin
Relationships: Aladdin & Jay (Disney), Aziz & Jay (Disney)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 59





	1. Day 1 - Arrival

_“You can’t just turn down a personal invitation from the sultan, Jay!”_

_“Yeesh, I get it, your purpleness. I’m going, I’m going.”_

It’s hot.

It’s a searing kind of heat that he can feel baking his skin. The shimmering air and too bright sun is overwhelming him, causing him to squint and be pushed through the crowd blindly as they all enter the city.

Jafar had said it was miserable. He was…wrong.

The heat is extreme, and the air is dry, so unlike the cool dead damp that chilled him to the bone on the Isle. It isn’t exhausting and oppressive, it feels warm and alive. It is nothing like how Jafar had described.

Nothing is how Jafar had described.

The crowd had pushed him along, away from the entrance and where his escort was supposed to pick him up, and had thinned out closer to the city center only for a new wave of market-goers to fill in the gaps.

Jay blinks as his eyes adjust to the bright light and takes it all in.

The people—well for one, they’re dressed for the heat, in either loose fitting or tight and sleeveless clothes, which Jay needs to adopt stat, his clothes are sticking and melting onto him like never before—they all…look like him. He was unnaturally darker for the Isle, where the lack of sun meant most were some shade of pale, but here his features, along with the same brown hair and brown eyes, is commonplace. It’s kind of nice, to be unidentifiable, a face in the crowd. He gets a few glances thrown his way and he tugs at his collar self-consciously. He needs to get a change of clothes.

He looks around the stalls and marvels at the variety of colors and items on display. The smells from a grilled meat stand waft his way and pull him closer, while the shouts of deals and good prices pull him the other way. He watches people barter and haggle and connive and shout and the nostalgia of home stings. It’s just like the Isle, only everything is clean, the sun is shining brightly overhead, the shouts aren’t of anger, just to attract attention, and shopkeepers welcome everyone in with a smile that doesn’t promise danger in the depths of their store.

Maybe it’s not like the Isle at all.

“You!” Jay jumps and turns to someone at a fruit stall gesturing to a bunch of cut up pieces of fruit on display. “Try this berry, it’s delicious.”

“Or what?” he can’t help but question, approaching.

“Or miss out on the best berry you’ve ever tasted kid, now eat it!” The familiar threatening tone for something as pleasant as a piece of fruit is startling, and Jay grabs one and hmms in surprise at the burst of flavor on his tongue. “Told you, now how much do you want?”

He grins at the unfamiliar technique—catching flies with honey, he’s heard the saying go—and decides to see how much he can get when the shopkeepers don’t already know about him and his tricks.

He gets to try a few more fruits with steadily increasing price tags and, taking pity on the shop keep, settles on buying a melon, wrapped tidy in a mesh bag to take as a gift. Evie did say it was improper manners to show up empty handed. He’s already late and lost, he’ll need to make up for his first impression somehow.

He ventures further through the market and swings the mesh bag in one hand, the other clenched tightly around the strap of his bag. The wonder is wearing off, and unfortunately, Jay can see much more clearly now without the sun blinding him.

With no more new distractions, his eyes can’t help but be drawn to the old, familiar shiny ones. The sun, so blinding before, catches on the metals of jewelry and coins and wares, winking at him, teasing him.

Coin bags weigh heavy and noticeable in the style of clothes here. The jewelry that accented the wearers now steals the show. Jay jumps at the sight of a gold store—an entire shop that just sells gold, all at one convenient location—and breaks into a run to get away from the easy temptation.

He spares it no second glance and searches desperately for something else to take his mind off of it and—

Someone’s tailing him.

Jay zeroes in on the familiar feeling of eyes following his every step, and forces slower, even pace. They were good, subtle enough for Jay to miss them while he was distracted, but running to catch up at the same time as him was a rookie mistake.

Jay looks like an easy score, from his clothes to his wide-eyed wonder, he painted a target on his back as an out-of-towner. Stupid move, but since they’re already in this game together, he might as well play his part.

Jay weaves through the crowd, trying to lose his tail. He didn’t know that criminals existed in Auradon, assuming they were all stuck on the Isle, but maybe petty criminals didn’t get stuck with the biggest bads.

They both keep a faster pace, not too fast that an observer would see a chase, but slick enough that it’s apparent they’re dancing around each other. They’re lucky that Jay doesn’t want to attract attention either, if he were to call out for help, he’s sure he’d be caught instead. When people know where he came from, who he is, the bad rep is sure to speak before he can.

He spots an empty dead-end alley, neglected from the main street, and decides on confrontation. Tailing is one thing for a petty crook, but Jay knows no one here can fight like he does. It’s time to show the competition that there’s a new king in town—wait, no, not competition. Jay is just a kid, a student, not a thief. His only competition is in sports.

But it wouldn’t hurt to teach a little lesson, would it? Scare the would-be criminal into going straight, cleaning up their act. It’s like Fairy Godmother’s quizzes: When trying to mug someone, if they turn the tables on you do you a) turn tail and run, b) fight and die, or c) beg for mercy and amend your ways? This is a learning opportunity, a ‘don’t go down this path or you’ll end up on the Isle like me, kid.’ Pretty hero-like of him, honestly, others wouldn’t be so kind.

He runs to the wall and makes like he’s dropped his bag in his haste. He kneels down as though to pick it up and waits for his tail to fall into his trap, of a clumsy prey alone and cornered. He waits for the shadow to fall over him and reaches into his jacket pocket for the small paring knife he snagged from the kitchens, the closest thing to a compact weapon he’s found since arriving in Auradon.

“Hey—”

Jay drops the melon in his other hand and whips around, crouched and ready to strike at the throat, and freezes as he comes face-to-face with the man of his nightmares.

He’s dressed down, unassuming royalty, but Jay recognizes those features from weekly TV spots, of the hero standing next to his lovely, lovely wife— _who was mine! The whole world was mine until you wretch good-for-nothing thief_ —Jay shakes Jafar’s voice out of his head and glares at his enemy, before catching himself.

“I just wanted to return this,” his father’s nemesis smiles innocently, broadly, ignoring the weapon in his face. “You dropped it while you were buying that melon.”

Jay stares at his wallet in Aladdin’s outstretched hand, and spends a few painful seconds frozen before he registers that he is holding a _knife_ in the _king’s_ face.

He’s surprised he doesn’t get sniped on the spot.

Jay cusses like hell in his head, drops the _kitchen knife, how pathetic,_ and straightens up, forcing both arms down at his side. He rigidly swings into a bow—they bow here, right?

“M-my apologies, Aladdin—sir—king—sultan,” he fumbles, remembering the proper term at the last second. He really should’ve paid more attention to the royal titles for each of the kingdoms in class.

“Please, sir king sultan is my wife!” Aladdin laughs. “Aladdin. No-title is fine, for I am but a humble prince.”

 _Prince?_ Jay’d thought he’d had the statuses right, but doesn’t dare to question it.

He’s not sure if this is his cute to straighten but does it anyways, uncomfortable with how exposed his back is. Though, he supposes, that’s the point.

He takes his wallet from Aladdin’s hand and ignores the urge to open it and see what’s missing—it doesn’t feel any lighter than before—and then quickly pockets it. He shouldn’t be so distrustful, people in Auradon don’t do that kind of thing. Jay’s the thief here, not him.

“And you are?”

Jay bites back a haughty _you don’t know?_

Why would Aladdin know what Jay looks like? It’s not like he saw _Jay_ on TV every week, rubbing how good his life is into his face.

“Jay.” He’s truthful, too prideful to lie about who he is to his sworn enemy, damn the consequences. He gets that from his dad.

He wonders if Aladdin knows him with just that, or if he can play at being some random kid who’s just stupid enough to threaten royalty.

…Yeah, he’s dead.

Aladdin grins even wider. “Oh, I know. I saw your student ID.”

Jay flushes, glowering before he can help it. Aladdin went through his wallet, ID’d him, and then tested Jay to see how much of a liar he is?

Well, his reputation does speak for itself. Can’t trust a liar or a thief, and he’s known for being both.

Jay keeps his mouth shut, not sure how to respond in a way that won’t be sarcastic or spiteful.

Aladdin continues, undeterred. “Welcome to Agrabah!” He throws his arms wide, gesturing to the blank walls of the quiet alley. Jay can’t help but snort. “Days hot enough to cook food on the ground, nights cold enough to freeze to death. Despite that, full of good people, good food, and good times! Sheesh, I sound like Genie.” Jay stiffens, suddenly remembering that genies, _the_ genie, are _real_ and _here_ , before getting swept up again by Aladdin’s words.

“That last phrase is our new slogan, trying to bring tourism in, y’know? Have a good time here and tell all your friends.”

“What are you talking about? What are you doing here?” Jay has to ask. He had prepared for an extremely polite, full of honeyed words and sweet-talking first encounter with Aladdin and Jasmine, to make sure to leave a good impression, but by now he’s already ruined it so bad he might as well speak freely.

It’s a rude question, lacking all of the proper court manners Evie tried to beat into his brain at the last second, but Aladdin pays it no mind. “I was stationed with a royal guard at the entrance of town ready to pick you up when you arrived, give you the whole royal welcome, but then you wandered away. I told the guard not to worry, I’d get us both to the palace by high sun, and,” he looks up. “We’re so late. Jas is going to kill me.”

 _Why were you following me?_ Jay wants to ask, but can’t. He can’t accuse royalty of tailing him, in fact it was probably his right to make sure a known low-life like Jay _wasn’t_ running amok in his city. He must be making some kind of expression, because after Aladdin searches Jay’s face, he speaks, answering whatever question he sees. Jay schools it neutrally, trying not to be dissected.

“I loved seeing the city through your eyes,” Aladdin grins. “You live here all your life like me and sometimes forget the joy in the everyday.” His gaze softens a bit, looking far away. Jay doesn’t know how to respond to that, like he hasn’t known how to respond to anything Aladdin’s said or done so far.

At Jay’s silence, Aladdin continues to smile. “C’mon, we can’t keep her majesty waiting.”

He crouches and picks up the kitchen knife. “Wouldn’t want you to lose this too,” he winks. He holds it by the blade and Jay takes it and pockets it.

Aladdin turns, exposing his back to Jay, and leads them out of the alley and to the palace, where Jay presents his bruised and battered melon to Sultan Jasmine, who chastises Aladdin for making them worry and politely says she is glad to welcome Jay to Agrabah and hopes that he has a good time in the city. It’s not unlike the informal welcome he got from Aladdin, but the underlying meaning is the same—welcome, spend money, tell all your friends.

Jay kind of likes it.

Jay stumbles through his prepared spiel of being honored to be invited, ignoring Aladdin’s wry grin, and is dismissed to be shown to his room by a servant.

As he leaves, he overhears Aladdin telling Jasmine how he and Jay got to know each other on the walk to the palace and how Aladdin got Jay his wallet back after he dropped it. Quite a bit of detail is omitted and Jay realizes he’s going to need to be on his toes around the royal family, Aladdin especially.

He definitely didn’t _drop it_.


	2. Day 2 - Aziz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aziz is who I imagine would be the product of Aladdin and Jasmine’s good parenting and personalities. Is he Aladdin Lite? Perhaps.
> 
> As for all of it, ooc? Perhaps. This is completely self indulgent, let them say fuck.

Jay’d used the excuse of the different time zones to fake a yawn to a servant and skip out on dinner. It wasn’t that he was avoiding the royal family, his introductory conversation with Jasmine had been distantly polite with no real substance, as speaking with royalty tended to be, but…okay it was definitely the other half of the royal couple he didn’t want to see.

Aladdin was unsettling and wrong. He looked at Jay like he saw right through him, saw what he could be up to, and threw him off with quick words and an easy grin. He’d tailed Jay, snagged his wallet, and didn’t take anything from it. What was that supposed to mean? Was it a challenge? A warning?

But that doesn’t matter, because Jay’s _not_ scared of him, or of Jasmine. They’re just big names and everyone gets nervous meeting the bigwigs. They’ve always been the picture of perfection, and now Jay’s just seeing it up close and personal instead of through a grainy TV, that’s all.

He drags his hands over his face and smacks himself once for good measure. He’d never had the luxury of thinking about stuff like this before, but now that he’s thinking it’s like he can’t stop. Coming here might’ve been a mistake, but he’s stuck here for a week.

He stares up at the opulent ceiling above his bed, analyzes the words and body language from today’s interactions until the sun sets, and then stares out the window to the city, a little toned down but still full of life after dark. From the palace he can see the glow of the market brightest, and the chatter from every corner rises up. Again it’s so like-unlike the Isle that it makes him…uncomfortable, he settles on. Past the city the desert is eerily still—there’s no chaotic waves crashing on the shore and turbulent water. An occasional breeze kicks up sand from a dune but instead it’s just the vastness of the desert and the vastness of the sky above. It’s beautiful, and again Jafar left this out of his tirades cursing this land.

Jay considers sneaking out to join the activity below him, and then remembers his company. Though long since a street rat himself, Aladdin proved his skills hadn’t gotten rusty with disuse, and if Jay were Aladdin he’d be waiting on one of the palace’s many roofs, watching for Jafar’s son to enact his nefarious plan. Jay doesn’t want to be any more cause for suspicion than he has to be, doesn’t want the hero to have an excuse to take him down.

So Jay buries deeper under the covers and forces himself to try to sleep, knowing that eyes are watching him everywhere.

\---

Jay wakes up before the sun rises. It’s a new day, and he’s refreshed enough to face the music. He changes into one of the outfits left in the drawers, feels a little more Agrabah, and braces himself.

He flashes a charming smile at the handful of servants he passes walking through the halls, notes the varying responses he gets—blush, wide eyes, smile back, eyebrows arched in surprise—and it settles any leftover nerves from yesterday. It’s the same response he gets at school, classic Auradon. Agrabah’s no different and he’s ready to bring his A game today.

He heads downstairs to find the banquet hall, where there’s likely to be food. Skipping out on dinner after so many regular meals has his stomach protesting. It’s the door to the left of the main entrance and a quick peek inside confirms there’s no food and no royalty.

“Good morning.”

Jay jumps and whips around, eyeing the staff member carrying a lumpy sack of ingredients. He relaxes his posture and sends them a light smirk to make up for his blunder. “Hey.”

“Their majesties are preoccupied with an important matter that needs attending to. They’ve already eaten and will be unavailable today. Would you like breakfast?”

Jay imagines eating alone in the silence at that gigantic table, talk about uncomfortable, and sees guards near the front entrances watching him. He suspects they’re there to make sure he doesn’t leave on his own, but maybe he can roam alone if he keeps to the confines of the royal palace.

He asks as much and gets a nod of permission. He heads down a hallway as relaxed as can be, the picture of innocence honed after years of practice. Would it be too much if he started whistling? No, they’re not that gullible here.

He comes across the library (boring), the kitchens (too busy to get in and out safely), and what seems to be a hallway of empty meeting rooms for…meeting. With how often Mal and Ben are whisked away to meet some dignitary or representative, just for impression’s sake, it makes sense that royalty in Agrabah are subject to the same layered politics and need space to do it. Boring.

There’s a vase on a pedestal across from one of the meeting rooms’ closed doors that glints in a way Jay can’t ignore. It’s suspicious, the only thing in this hall that’s not part of the scenery, definitely a trap, and Jay falls right in. The marbled floors and ornate carved doors are incredible, and Jay can’t take his eyes off of them, _wants_ them, but they’re safely for looking and not really things he can wrap his hands around. Nothing bolts down this thin porcelain, an intricate gold design threading through it, and Jay wants to feel how light it is, that’s all. He clasps his hands behind his back at the thought and steps back—okay, he’d been really up close to that hadn’t he—and lets out a breath.

“Good morning, young man, are you lost?”

Jay whips around to face a stern bespectacled man in fancy academic robes, hands clasped behind his back and nose turned upward. Was he getting out of practice, or was it common for the citizens here to be light on their feet?

“ _Jafar’s_ son.” His tone is decidedly colder when he sees Jay’s face, eyeing him up and down. “What are you doing here?” He glances back at the ornate meeting room doors he came from and frowns, giving him a once-over.

“Uh, yeah, that’s me,” Jay confirms, a little off guard. He’s sure everyone in the palace knows who he is, since a guest this controversial was sure to spread a rumor, but so far everyone’d been polite about it at least. He copies Evie’s lilting tone, just demure enough, and says, “Forgive me, but I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting before.” At least one of them hadn’t forgotten their court manners.

“Abis,” he huffs. “Not that I expect you to know who I am, given your upbringing. I am one of the royal viziers.” He gives Jay a look. “We decided it was best to have multiple, considering the disaster that resulted by having only one.”

“Of course,” Jay agrees, because how could he not? It was a disaster.

“I’m sure you think you’ll do much better, won’t you? Come to finish what he started?” Jay bites down a retort at the transparent goading. He knows better than to respond this. Abis doesn’t let the silence stop him. “Don’t think I didn’t see you eyeing that vase, boy. If you think you’re welcome to walk around like you own the place, take whatever you want, you’re wrong. We viziers will protect their Highnesses from the nefarious schemes of single-minded, selfish individuals like you and your father.”

Jay schools his expression, fighting the rising offense at Abis’ words. The whole point of this trip is to demonstrate to people outside of Auradon Prep that the VKs are good now, see? (Though Ben says it’s so the VKs can get out more.) So Jay doesn’t think about how he’ll show Abis, he’ll show them; he doesn’t think about how easy it would be to intimidate this weaker man who picks on someone half his age, put him in his place, take his place if he _really_ wanted to—and instead he offers a polite smile, ready to turn this confrontation into an opportunity.

“I understand your desire to protect their Highnesses, and it is very sensible to keep an eye on strangers. I am of the belief that one can never be too careful, and I’m sure the Sultana appreciates having multiple wise perspectives to turn to such as yourself. I apologize for looking too closely at the décor, I won’t do it again.” He didn’t get to spin a honeyed web to Jasmine and Aladdin yesterday, and this man is one that whispers in their ears, as he’s so kindly pointed out. A good word from a trusted source will do more for Jay’s reputation than Jay himself.

“I hope to prove that I am nothing like my father, truly I can think of no greater insult.” At least that much is true, and the sincerity leaks out. Abis raises a considering brow at that, and Jay’s confidence grows. _Just a bit more_. The viziers may be well educated, but people want to be told what they want to hear and will cast suspicion aside when they hear it.

“Jay!” They both turn to the voice at the end of the hall, running towards them with an arm raised in a wave.

Jay’s brain shorts out because, shit, that’s Aziz from the team. And if he’s here, that makes him Aladdin and Jasmine’s kid. Jay wants to smash his head against the clean marble wall. He’s an idiot. Of course royalty would send their kid to a school for royalty, why would Agrabah be separate from the rest of the kingdoms? Everyone at Auradon Prep is somebody.

“I was looking all over for you! Sheesh, early riser aren’t you? Abis, good to see you too.” Aziz stops and smiles pleasantly at both of them. It’s a bit toned down, but it’s the same knowing, easy-going smirk his father has. Jay’s fists tighten on reflex and he forces his entire body to relax, aware of his company.

“Aziz— _Prince_ Aziz!” Jay greets enthusiastically, throwing on as disarming a smile as he can and bowing for good measure. He spills a few more compliments and pleasantries at the boy and as he straightens, risks a glance at Abis, whose expression is pleasantly surprised. Jay can’t help his smile from growing sharper. _Got him._

Aziz waves him off, tells Jay he doesn’t need to be so formal, it’s embarrassing since Jay is older than him. His face is weary but complacent, not unlike the expression Mal had after receiving well wishes over and over during her first press tour with Ben. Ah, the troubles of doted on young royalty.

“Abis, I’m sorry to interrupt, but might I borrow Jay? I figured with mom and dad not around, I could keep him company.” Abis opens his mouth but before he can get a word in, Aziz barrels on. “I was thinking after a nice hearty breakfast in the banquet hall, we could hang out in my room or the palace gardens. _Please?_ ” he singsongs.

Abis sighs at the routine. He’s thoughtful for a moment, glances between the two boys, and nods his approval. “Sounds lovely, Prince Aziz. Do keep the noise down.”

Aziz gestures back down the hall from where he came and Jay follows, feeling Abis’ eyes on them until they round the corner. “I’ll show you something good,” Aziz whispers conspiratorially and gestures for Jay to stay with him. He weaves them both through what feels like the rest of the palace, ornate empty hallway leading to ornate empty hallway. They see handfuls of guards and servants milling about and Aziz loudly announces themselves to anyone they come across. Eventually they make it back to the first floor and through a door that actually spills out to the gardens, and Aziz elbows Jay with a wink. “Got him!”

Jay stiffens at the jab before throwing a light punch at Aziz’s arm. He reminds himself that it’s Aziz from the team and, like practice, no harm, no foul.

“Sorry ‘bout the runaround, Abis is a good vizier and all but he’s a stickler for the rules and it’s best if other eyes can report that they saw us. Good job with the formalities and all, though I gotta say I never expected to see you bowing at me like that. Felt weird.”

Jay shrugs, “Like you said, Abis is all about rules. Figured I’d keep to them.”

“And that you did,” Aziz smiles, gesturing to follow him through the garden. “Don’t think I didn’t hear you spoon feeding him bullshit. Protip: Sound carries. Lucky for you he already seems to have changed his vote in your favor without my help.” Aziz raises a brow. “Also you do realize like, no one does that anymore, right?” he laughs.

“Does what?”

“Bow. It’s so old school, real grandpa move.” Jay’s face heats up and he glares at Aziz, who stops laughing. “…Right then.” They keep walking.

They don’t bow here? Jafar’d made him practice grandiose sweeping bows for the Grand Vizier’s entrance and exit, making sure Jay was respectful enough for someone of Jafar’s (former) status. The one piece of advice he thought he could use from Jafar’s stupid demands and it didn’t even help. Figures.

“Glad you decided to visit,” Aziz changes the subject, cutting into Jay’s brooding silence. “I know we both play tourney, but I feel like we haven’t gotten to hang out much since we’re in different grades. Tourney’s great and all, but Coach doesn’t do enough team building outside of practice.”

Jay shrugs, not sure what team building is, but he agrees that he and Aziz have never really talked. Jay’d heard that the son of Aladdin goes to Auradon Prep but never really put two and two together. He’d kind of made it a point _not_ to seek out his dad’s enemy’s kid, knowing the history and given Mal and Audrey’s wonderful example.

“Sorry I never really uh, reached out,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. He never really made an effort to talk with anyone outside of his immediate circle. Anyone else, like Lonnie, talked to him first. He has to admit, out of his friends he hasn’t been as active in the making friends part of school so far. The team was cool and all, but he hadn’t ever interacted with them when he wasn’t in uniform. Maybe that’s team building.

“No biggie,” Aziz says. “You were busy with other things.” Like orchestrating the take down of Auradon, mainly. “You really did get up earlier than I expected, though! What’s the point of vacation if you don’t sleep in?” he gripes with a grin. Always with a grin. Aziz’s resemblance to his father is uncanny and Jay was blind to not see it.

They stop before a vine-covered wall and Jay throws Aziz a questioning look. “Agrabah is really boring if this is the sight to see.”

“What, the parkour show-off can’t see an escape route when it’s right in front of him?” Aziz glances around, ensuring the coast is clear, before scrambling up and over the wall. Amused, Jay tunes out Aziz’s goading from the other side before vaulting over.

He lands heavily in the loose, hot sand and Aziz reaches out a hand to steady him. “Welcome to Agrabah,” Aziz says, gesturing down the quiet street the gardens spit them out in. “C’mon, lemme give you the grand tour.”

Aziz leads them out onto the main streets, still sleepy under the morning pink sky. There aren’t many eyes, but the duo attracts all of their gazes. Jay tenses at the feeling of being watched and wills Aziz to walk faster, but he strolls with no particular sense of purpose. Shopkeepers send them knowing looks and wry greetings.

“Good morning Prince—sorry, just Aziz.”

“You’re a prince?” Jay asks. And Prince Aladdin? “Isn’t it awkward to be the same royal rank as your dad?” Aziz chuckles.

“What? No, he’s the sultan. I’m the one and only prince.”

“Oh, right.” Jay’s expression sours as he remembers Aladdin’s humbled introduction. _Liar._ He’d been stringing him along, taking him for a fool.

“Care for a breakfast on the go, random citizen?” The smell from the shop snaps Jay from his thoughts and he looks to Aziz.

They grab some bread as they walk and Aziz explains himself just barely. “Figured we could stop by the school first, see a day in the life, then shopping and exploring and whatever we feel like, yeah?”

“Sure?” Jay wants to know what the deal was with giving that vizier the runaround if literally everyone knows Aziz and knows he’s out, so he asks as much.

“I didn’t want your whole experience of Agrabah to be the inside of the palace and without mom and dad around, the viziers would’ve been following you around all day to keep an eye on you. A good ol’ prison break seemed appropriate and now I can show you all the interesting spots.”

Jay shouldn’t be—he _isn’t_ surprised that he wasn’t trusted, especially to roam on his own, but he can’t help the small sting of hurt.

“Seems like everyone’s going to know we snuck out anyways. Literally everyone knows who you are, Aziz.”

“This isn’t my first time, Jay. Once we’re out of the palace we’re good, no one will say anything.”

Everything clicks. “Family? Money? Promises of a higher status?”

“What?”

“Extortion. Their silence in exchange for what, their safety, their family’s?” Aziz makes a face.

“No, that’s crazy. They like me and don’t want me to get in trouble.” At Jay’s puzzled expression, he continues. “My parents let me do what I want, but when they’re tied up I become the viziers’ responsibility, and they’re too…protective. I’m a rebellious teen! I want independence and freedom. They mean well but at this age I don’t need a babysitter.”

“So you’re all in a con together, then?”

“That’s one way to put it, yeah.”

“It’s super tame but compared to the stuff AKs normally do that’s pretty cool, Aziz.”

Aziz chuckles, “I’ll take the compliment.”

\---

They head towards the outskirts of the city and pass a variety of kids along the way, more active than the sleepy adults from further in town. The kids travel in gangs and as they pass by homes and streets, more will run up and join their group, chatting and laughing. There’s a distinct lack of posturing and vigilance, and their formations aren’t practical for action, but Jay chalks it up to Auradon inexperience and the fact that they just don’t have the benefit of Mal, or even Uma, leading them. Somehow, some groups even appear to be leaderless.

Aziz narrates everything as they pass by, sprinkling in tidbits about the architecture, “the mud bricks are ancient but hold up great”, the area, “a lot of schools are here, away from the distractions, if you know what I mean,” and the people, “That’s Sami, his dad’s an awesome butcher we should stop by later to taste his cured meats they’re _so good_.” “We can’t catch up but there’s Fatima! I had a lot of classes with her in primary, she was so good at science, and now she’s president of the science club!”

By far Aziz’s favorite topic is the people. Each person they see gets an introduction with a tone of pride. Jay doesn’t like hearing their backstories, not sure what he’s supposed to do with this information, but at least no one comes up to the duo and chats them up.

“And there’s—ow!” The thwonk of an impact has Jay tensing and he remembers his company and his brain jumps: an assassination attempt? Though that was pretty sloppy.

They turn around to see two boys running up and at Aziz’s feet, a ball about as big as Jay’s head.

“Sorry, Az!” They run up and Aziz kicks the ball to them.

“Kai! Dar’!” Aziz hugs both and then hangs an arm around one’s shoulders. They chat, clearly catching up, and Jay shifts uneasily.

“School, seriously? Your holiday from fancy Auradon Prep and you choose to spend it at more school?”

“I wanted to show off my awesome friends, duh! My friend from school’s visiting.”

“Who’d you get roped into your antics today?” Aziz fakes offense and turns to Jay—

“Jamal,” Jay introduces, steps closer and fist bumps the newcomers while ignoring Aziz’s raised brow. They make small talk and Jay sidesteps questions about where he’s from and how he got into Auradon Prep.

“It’s a nowhere town, you wouldn’t have heard of it. Seriously _nothing_ to do there, you guys have it so much better here.”

“My dad’s a big shot for my town, which translates to good enough to get into Auradon Prep but not good enough for publicity, y’know?” That gets some nods and Jay falls easily into the conversation. Lying is so much easier when people assume you’re truthful.

“How do you know Aziz?”

“We met in tourney, man you _have_ to see this guy play he’s a madman,” Aziz steps up, and with that word all talk turns to the sport.

They talk about tourney and other sports (“Dude, you’ve never heard of football?”), kicking the ball between them as they walk until they arrive among the stragglers at the arched entrance to the school grounds.

“So, going to spend a day in the life with us?”

Aziz glances at Jay. “Maybe, though you have a point about more school. We might be skipping, don’t wait up.” A bell tolls and they take action.

“Way to make us late, Az!”

“Good meeting you, J!”

Jay tenses and Aziz nonchalantly shoves his hands in his pockets, voice calm as they run off with matching waves.

“Don't mind him, he’s just going for a nickname. I’m Az ‘cause apparently the two syllables in Aziz are too much of a mouthful.”

“Changed your mind about showing me the school?” Saw how he interacted with his friends and decided to protect them.

“Honestly, I was just fishing for something to do during the day, all the excitement around here tends to happen at night. But I did want you to meet my friends.”

“They’re cool,” Jay admits.

“They’re the best!” Aziz pauses, worrying his lip between his teeth. “Though I admit my reasons for bringing you this way weren’t completely altruistic.” Jay raises a brow, interested in the selfish motive. AKs don’t tend to have them (or at least admit it) often. “I don’t get to see them much since I transferred to Auradon Prep…I missed them. It’s different, going from seeing the same people in class everyday for years and then only over breaks.”

“Why’d you even go to school with them? You don’t get like, private tutors and stuff?”

“Oh yeah, definitely had those on the weekends, but my parents never really got to experience a normal childhood and normal schooling, so they tried to give me a chance at one.”

Kids are already filing out for a gym class and Jay sees them kicking around the same footballs Aziz’s friends had. They’re all talking and laughing, and based on Aziz’s stories they’ve all been classmates their entire lives.

“I know, boohoo, woe is the prince. My parents let me get away with it for a long time but eventually I had to transfer into the royal school system.” Aziz’s tone is light, but Jay’s learned how to listen deeper, and the bitterness is clear. “Political responsibilities.”

Jay is struck by the fates they were born into. Obviously one was way better than the other, but neither has a choice. Except, no, Mal had wrested their fates from their parents and _chose_ , and now Jay was here, in an Agrabah not on fire and with no looming threat that would set it.

But for others, fate is undisturbed and continues like clockwork.

“That sucks.”

Aziz huffs out a short laugh, “Sure.”

His mind wanders, watching the group split up into teams. In another life, could Jay have been born into a fate without the chains of good vs. evil so blatant to break, raised in the palace as a future vizier to the sultan-to-be? Their statuses in life still separating them, but closer than Jay could ever dream of. Would being so close, yet fated to remain so far drive him mad like his father? While being here is already more than he could imagine, if he had started here, would he have reached even higher and demanded even more?

Yes. If it hadn’t been Jafar, it would’ve been someone else. He is his father’s son, and there is always more to want.

They both stare into the school until Aziz gives him a look and grabs Jay’s elbow—he jerks away quickly and Aziz turns the motion into a hand wave, gesturing for Jay to follow him. “Enough about school! This is _Agrabah_! C’mon, there’s so much more to see.”

Aziz’s nostalgia must be rubbing off on him because his chest hurts to see the groups kick up dust as they run after the ball. He wants that, but can’t figure out how to grab it and run. He gladly takes up Aziz’s excuse to leave and follows him away.

\---

They explore the city. Again. Jay’d seen the market yesterday, dazzled by the activity, but there was so much more he’d missed on his first go around cut short by his arch-nemesis.

They’re already near the outskirts, so it’s a simple trip to see the fields and farms where the animals are raised and Jay marvels that things grow in the desert.

“What, you thought we just magically had food and water here?”

“Well, yeah.” Magic knows no bounds. If Jay thinks a little harder about the specifics, he figured it was someone’s benevolent wish from a genie that blessed the land, but there was a clear flaw in his logic: people don’t wish selflessly. The truth is more satisfying, that they can accomplish this without the easy aid of magic.

They walk back into town along the canals that run through the city, delivering water, and Aziz explains some of the history of the land and their society, Jay’s society, he says. Jafar had told him nothing prior to his brief reign, and Jay makes mental notes for behaviors and tidbits he can use for small and sweet talk.

They grab more food in the market, all the while turning heads as Aziz is greeted in the same non-anonymous manner as before. Jay grows more comfortable as he realizes his place in Aziz’s shadow, that the eyes are not for him.

He is a stranger here. At Auradon Prep he’s a VK first, Jafar’s son second. Here, no one gives him a second glance (except in clear admiration, which he returns with a practiced look sure to make them swoon).

He is no one, at most Aziz’s friend.

Jay’d expected some recognition from the good citizens of Agrabah for being the son of Jafar, but maybe everyone’d been caught up watching Mal confront her mother. Jay’d been in the background for all of the big moments, a little hidden from the public eye. He thanks evil that he doesn’t take after Jafar in the looks department.

They don’t do much except walk the streets, until that gets boring and they venture up to the roofs, which is where Jay unabashedly shows off.

“Keep _up_ , Aziz!” he goads, jumping across an alley onto another roof.

“Look man, I spent years honing that wall scaling shit I’ve never—ah!”

“So close,” Jay says, pulling Aziz from where he dangles, grip tight on the ledge. “You’ve got balls,” Jay compliments, and Aziz shakily gets up, still breathing hard from their run.

“Thanks for noticing, but I’m pretty sure they had nothing to do with it.” Jay laughs, scouring for their next path, and spies an enticing tower tucked between some buildings, barely jutting out.

“There,” he points. “You know that’s got a great vantage point.” He takes off, ignoring Aziz’s complaints to let him at least catch his breath, and laughs, riding the high of adrenaline from a chase without the looming fear of actual danger.

Agrabah is _fun_.

Jay crawls through the window once he reaches the tower and calls behind him, “Dude, jackpot!” The telltale signs of a hideout are evident, with a handful of belongings strewn about. He starts rifling through the threadbare blankets and opening the handful of boxes, all empty. Aziz will catch up.

It looks a little disused, and nothing of value remains from whoever had been here before, but the view out of the windows to the palace and the entire city are well worth it. The vantage makes for an excellent lookout, Jay can see it’s just close enough to the market for frequent trips, and the crumbling mud bricks make for a difficult chase and a clean getaway. This is a _great_ hideout, and Jay tries to piece together what must’ve caused them to leave. Jay wouldn’t have given this up without a fight.

“About time,” he helps Aziz up as he arrives.

“I finally get why you’re so freakishly good at tourney,” Aziz pants. “Tourney’s cake compared to this.”

“Keep up or Coach’ll make you run laps.”

“No,” Aziz moans. While he rests, Jay explains his theory behind this unoccupied, yet prime location.

“Some nasty shit must’ve gone down.” Aziz winces.

“This is my dad’s old place.” Jay stiffens, reminded again just who Aziz is, remembers who he is.

“It is a good place,” Aziz admits. “He explained the same stuff the first time he took me here. You have the same eye.” Jay doesn’t like how those words cut to his core.

It’s silent, the only sound Aziz’s panting breaths as Jay mulls over where they are. No wonder everything was worn and dusty, it’d been years since Aladdin had moved up in the world.

In the seclusion of the hideout, away from the public eye, Aziz’s tone and gaze grow serious. “Look, I don’t want to spoil the fun, but this needs to be said. I won’t pretend to know what it’s been like for you Jay, and I don’t expect you to explain it for me. But I know my dad’s spent years struggling to get others to see past his past, so just some advice so you don’t make the same mistakes: You can’t ignore it, ‘cause it’s part of who you are, but that doesn’t mean it’s all you are, _Jamal_.”

Jay holds his breath. Aziz’d clearly been holding onto this all day, until he’d grown comfortable enough around the other boy. He’d been waiting for the right moment to strike, the snake.

“Most people don’t care, or at least they’ll never say it to your face. We forgive and forget, as I’m sure you’ve noticed the Auradon way is,” his tone is wry. “But some will say it to your face, and not everyone can be bought over with some pretty words and archaic gestures.”

“It’s gonna suck. I don’t even know how much it could suck because I was born years after all of the big shit went down here. Just know there’s those of us who truly don’t hold you accountable for your father or how you got here.”

Jay doesn’t like the way his heart eases hearing those words. He’s never needed the approval of anyone— _Jafar—_ his mind supplies, and being in Auradon wasn’t going to change that.

Jay brushes the brunt of Aziz’s comments away, refuses to acknowledge them. “You’re way too observant for your own good,” Jay pauses, considering. “And I thought I spun my words well.”

“Eh, I get that from my dad,” Aziz shrugs, playing along as Jay avoids the topic. _Same_ , Jay wants to say, but resembling Jafar is never a good thing.

Aziz plays with the loose thread from one of the remaining blankets. “Since we’re on the topic, I have to know. Do you hate me?”

“W-what?” Jay sputters.

“I get why. You never brought it up during practice, so I figured we were just gonna ignore the elephant in the room and each other forever, but since we’re here I want to know.” He smiles softly. “I get _that_ from my mom.”

“Why would I hate you?”

“Because I’m a fucking prince? Our dads are enemies?” Now Aziz’s tone grows confused. “I know it’s pretty sweet in comparison.”

“I thought you weren’t going to pretend to know what my life’s been like.”

“I don’t know, but you can’t tell me it was on par with royalty.”

“Fair enough.”

“You don’t blame me for all the opportunity I get just for being born into it? I would.” Jay shrugs.

“That’s life. It’s not fair.” Jay sees Aziz grow frustrated at the lack of heat in Jay’s tone.

“Don’t you ever wish it was more fair?”

“Sure, but wishing won’t make it happen.”

Aziz levels him with a look.

“Oh, fuck off!” Jay throws his hands up. “I heard it doesn’t do that anymore anyways! Look, I’m lucky to be here with you now. Being here, exploring Agrabah with you is way more than I ever expected. That’s good enough.” The lie tastes fouler than usual, and Jay blames it on Aziz’s easing posture at the admittance.

“You never dreamt of leaving the Isle?”

“Pfft, no. Dreaming’s for suckers.” Like Jafar. Jay does the legwork for dreamers. “But no, I don’t hate you.” Aziz’s even one of the better AKs, second only to Lonnie. Or third, behind Ben, because he does get credit for bringing them here even if he's too soft and kind.

Aziz’s brow furrows, but he exhales, clearly relieved. “I really do like you, Jay. I know you’re only here for appearances, but today’s been really fun.” Jay nods in agreement, glad to be on a safer subject.

“Since you don’t hate me, I don’t know what I did to get you to ignore me, but maybe when we’re back at school we can keep being friends?” Aziz’s tone is hopeful and Jay can’t help his laugh.

“That was actually not personal, I didn’t know you were Aladdin and Jasmine’s kid.”

Aziz scoffs in disbelief. “No way. No fucking way you didn’t see the family resemblance. You know how many people from Agrabah there are at Auradon Prep?”

“Fine, maybe some of it was me ignoring the signs. I was trying to avoid running into you, in case you were like Audrey.” Aziz winces.

“Understandable.”

“I’d like to be friends, though,” Jay admits. “You’re cool, Aziz.” Aziz brightens.

“We can hang out outside of practice, grab pizza or something.”

“Team building?”

Aziz laughs, “Yeah.”

\---

They’re back at the palace garden wall just as the sun’s starting to dip below the horizon.

“You’re so lucky I still have the strength to get over the wall and don’t have to go to the main doors. Next time, we’re running on the ground.”

“That sounds like a you problem.”

“Joke’s on you, if I’d been caught I would’ve taken you down with me.”

“That’s not very Auradon of you, Aziz.”

“Screw you, this is Agrabah.”

Jay smiles. Yeah, it is.

The palace is distinctly busier when they return, and Aziz leads them to his room for their alibi.

“There you are!” Aladdin’s sitting on the floor outside the bedroom door and stands up as they round the corner.

“Dad!” Aziz greets, running up to him. Jay approaches more cautiously, still can’t get over Aziz saying that to Aladdin of all people. He’d been personally waiting for them, not sending a servant to do it? How long had he been waiting?

“So, the gardens?” Aladdin asks with a knowing tone, and Jay’s on high alert. Is he really waiting for them to just admit it? Does he take Jay for a fool?

“The acacias are beautiful,” Jay covers.

“You like trees with green leaves, huh?” Aladdin’s amusement is evident in his tone and Jay bristles. Stupid, why’d he say a tree? Flowers are pretty, not trees.

“Dad, stop teasing. Jay, it’s okay. The alibi’s for the viziers. My parents know I can’t spend all day here with them hovering over my shoulder. Rebellious teen, remember?” Jay nods to Aziz and adds the fact that Aladdin’d strung him along anyways to the list of reasons why he has to be on his toes around the man. Another one of his games.

Aziz excitedly explains what they did today and luckily leaves out when they went to Aladdin’s old home. When they’re standing next to each other the family resemblance really is uncanny, but the tension that easily fell away with Aziz is present more than ever with Aladdin.

Aziz is harmless. He's Aladdin without the sharper edges Jay can tell have been dulled over the years. He isn’t someone who’s known survival the way that Jay knows Aladdin has, with that gleam in his eyes, his sharp grin, and his slightly taut posture despite being safe in his home. That shit doesn’t just leave you, which makes Aladdin a danger, as he’s so kindly demonstrated to Jay already.

“I’m jealous, that sounds so fun. I’ve been stuck in meetings _all day_ ,” Aladdin bemoans. “You’ve been hogging our guest, it’s my turn.”

“Fine, I get the hint, if you can even call it that. Where’s mom?”

“Her study. I’d say I hate to steal him away, but you know me better than that,” Aladdin laughs. Aziz rolls his eyes.

“It was funny the first million times, but you really need new material.” Aziz looks Jay over and, sensing the unease that must be rolling off of him, pats his shoulder. Aziz levels him with a significant look that Jay ignores. “See you tomorrow, Jay!” he waves, and takes off.

Aladdin continues to grin and they watch Aziz leave. Once it’s just the two of them, he leans in conspiratorially. Jay doesn’t think he can stand any more rigid, but he holds his breath anyways.

“C’mon with me, kid.”

Jay swallows and obediently follows Aladdin down the halls and out the palace doors.


	3. Day 3 - Aladdin

The lights of the city begin to turn on as Aladdin weaves them through the growing evening market crowd. Jay has the fleeting thought to try to lose him, head back to the palace and Aziz, but that would only push the trouble to later while very likely pissing off his host, and Jay’s become soft since Auradon, doesn’t want to brace for the consequences.

Aladdin steers him straight to a kabob stand where he orders two and hands Jay one. His stomach’s tied in knots, but Jay scarfs it down quickly despite that, aiming to free both hands again. It doesn’t hurt that the seasoned meat tastes heavenly.

As they walk, Jay stays a half step back, court etiquette dictating his place. He tries to relax his hunched up shoulders to hide the tension he’s carrying. Not that it matters since Aladdin can’t see behind himself, but Jay hates how Aladdin keeps catching him off guard.

Jafar taught him how important control is, reminded him repeatedly how weak and susceptible and _not in control_ he is, but also that the next best thing is the appearance of control.

Jay may not be in control of the situation, but Aladdin can’t keep knowing how uneasy it makes him.

Their path seems aimless, and is unfamiliar—Aziz hadn’t taken him past any of this earlier. Just how big is this place? He clears his throat hesitantly.

“Sultan Aladdin—”

“You forget our fateful meeting yesterday already, Jay?” he laughs, cutting Jay off. “No title needed.” His lack of denial has Jay automatically bristling. So he _is_ Sultan. Was he testing Jay’s knowledge? Playing pretend as someone of (slightly) lower status? For what end?

“Sultan—”

“Just Aladdin’s fine.”

“ _Sultan_ ,” Jay hisses, trying to be proper and mindful of the distance in their statuses. It comes out frustrated and Jay can’t even be bothered to smooth it over. He’s nervous and it’s making him slip up and be rude…but he _is_ being polite, it’s just Aladdin who’s not.

“Well, Grand Vizier Jr.—what, if you call me by my title I’m going to call you by yours. Or is it Senior Apprentice Vizier? Vizier-in-waiting? Slightly less grand but still mighty grand—”

Jay grits his teeth at Aladdin’s rapid-fire insults.

“I don’t _have_ a title,” Jay grinds out as politely as he can, though he can hear his seething tone is only thinly veiled. He chides his transparency, knows who he’s up against and that he must do better.

Aladdin seems surprised by the news, but Jay knows he’s just playing a part. “Oh, sorry. Guess I shouldn’t have assumed the ranks and organization of the Isle.” At Jay’s lack of response he exhales, “Look, I was just messing around. Can you just call me Aladdin? I’m sure we’d both be more comfortable that way.”

Jay’s not going to be comfortable either way, and it’s tempting to be petty and continue calling Aladdin ‘Sultan,’ since he doesn’t seem to like it for some reason, but the longer they spend on this, the longer the night will be. As much as Jay wants to (politely) fight him at every turn, it’s in his interest to play along a little.

“Fine. Truce,” he lies, and watches Aladdin’s expression change to relieved and then enthusiastic. He elbows Jay and winces as Jay’s fists clench at the touch.

“…Right, should’ve known better.” Jay doesn’t deign that with a response. “Anyways, I’m sure Aziz showed you around town, but there’s so much more to Agrabah and some things only _we_ can do together. C’mon,” he waggles his brows, mirth in his eyes. Jay nods stiffly and follows Aladdin back into the market where they’d met the day before.

Aladdin chatters aimlessly, pointing out things here and there from back in his day. Some mean old lady who was a mean old lady back when he was trouble and still doesn’t trust him. The fruit cart where he almost lost his hand, now that was one of the worst moments of his life. He talks _at_ Jay, as though he’s not really expecting an answer, and his frustration grows as his silent place behind Aladdin solidifies.

_“The shelves are looking bare,” Jafar comments to the air, and Jay’d best come back with something good soon._

_“Iago, tell the thief to bring something better tomorrow, or else,” he leaves the threat hanging, and Jay knows nothing less than the lamp will let him in tomorrow. He heads to the hideout, where at least he can speak among his equals._

“It’s just like the good ol’ days, right?” Aladdin asks, but it still doesn’t sound like he expects an answer so Jay stays quiet.

Aladdin perks up as they come across a pottery shop, with dishes and decorations, and heads inside.

The owner greets them with a wave before turning their attention to the customer they’re already helping. Aladdin returns the welcome and idly starts picking up anything and everything they come across, turning over plates and bowls with a faux thoughtful hum.

Jay shoves his hands in his pockets and shuffles behind him, trying to seem unassuming. The pottery is nice, but no doubt heavy, not worth the risk— _or_ something he even wants, or something he can’t just _pay_ for, now that he has access to Ben’s royal wallet through Mal.

“Aw, look at this little monkey.” Aladdin holds up a small figurine. “It’s just like y—” he turns to Jay and blinks a couple times upon seeing him, his eyes seeming to come back into focus. “It’s just like Abu.”

“Abu?”

“My best friend. My only friend, for a while. Sorry, got wrapped up in the nostalgia.”

Jay grits his teeth. Did he just call him a monkey?

“He’ll love this,” Aladdin says, and suddenly the figure isn’t in his hands or on the shelf. “Plus Rajah, otherwise he’ll get jealous,” he picks up a tiger and in a second it’s gone too, despite Jay’s eyes following the movement.

Aladdin’s stealing right in front of him?

Jay scans his clothes for any sign of the added weight, glances to the owner who is none the wiser, and returns his wide eyes to Aladdin’s back, who’s moved on to the vases.

Is this a test? This feels like something straight from Goodness class except it’s fill-in-the-blank and Jay’s only good at multiple choice, needs to have his options laid out in front of him to know what to do. He should…stop Aladdin, right? Can he stop the Sultan?

But then Aladdin swipes his hand over the front counter and leaves behind a neatly tied up drawstring bag laden with coins, surely worth more than whatever trinkets he’d just snatched. It’s the most underhanded way of paying for something Jay’s ever seen, but he is paying for it.

Aladdin glances back at Jay’s expression and chuckles, coming back with a smug grin.

“What, impressed?”

Jay scowls.

“Sorry, not trying to show off,” Aladdin ducks his head with a laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “It’s just…what I do. I couldn’t lose my nasty habits fast enough, and it was shameful when Jas had to go around and pay back when I slipped up, so I tweaked it into a not-so-nasty habit. Anywhere I go, I make sure to leave some coins before I leave. And it’s good for the economy, giving back.”

“I’ll admit, it’s an indulgence I’m lucky to have. I didn’t _want_ to lose the habit. It’s…the act, it’s a little thrilling, isn’t it?” he looks at Jay eagerly.

“I didn’t do it for fun,” Jay says carefully, wary of giving the wrong answer. Didn’t, past tense, implying he doesn’t do it now. It’s _not_ fun, it’s not supposed to be fun, it’s just survival.

He ignores the memories, the way his heart would race with the adrenaline, the fear of getting caught. The smile he couldn’t help from breaking out on his face once he was safely away with a score.

On the Isle, he could admit to the satisfaction it brought him, getting away cleanly, just taking and taking to satisfy his greed. It was expected of him, to enjoy it. In Auradon, he hadn’t had a choice, he was forced by the circumstances. Here, he is good.

But Jay can’t help but be jealous of Aladdin’s solution. He’s not losing his touch, not letting his skills get rusty from disuse yet still staying in the good graces of his subjects, paying them handsomely for their forgiveness.

Meanwhile, Jay is constantly apologizing and sneaking things to the lost and found, shamed and judged for the same thing. Aladdin didn’t learn restraint, while Jay has tiny crescent scars on his palms from making sure he doesn’t slip up.

It’s smart, Jay begrudgingly admits. All the more reason for Jay to keep his guard up. Jafar’d explained in much detail how cunning, underhanded, and arrogant his foe was.

 _“You good for nothing, sneaky little rat. No one betrays me and gets away with it!”_ Jay shudders, remembering Jafar’s anger.

“C’mon, no worries,” Aladdin says with a wink. “I’ve got you covered,” he nods to the bag behind him.

Jafar’d bemoaned Aladdin’s tricks enough times that Jay knows better than to accept the invitation.

Does Aladdin really think Jay has such little self-control, that he can’t resist the temptation? That he’s too stupid to see as clear a trap as this laid out?

He pointedly shoves his hands deeper into his pockets and levels Aladdin with a neutral look. “Thank you for the offer, but I’d rather not.” He’s tempted to add the title, _Sultan_ , just to be coy, but refusing royalty is already risky enough.

Aladdin’s face falls, disappointed, and Jay smirks when he looks away. He knows all about games, and just because Aladdin’s caught him off guard before doesn’t mean he’ll be that easy. He won’t be toyed with.

\---

They go into a few more stores and Aladdin repeats the same sneaky process with the same tricky offer and Jay finds it harder and harder to refuse the temptation. Watching Aladdin, now enough times to see where he shoves the item into his clothes, has made him realize that there’s something worse than the shame and admonishment of getting caught in Auradon or the fear of getting caught on the Isle—it’s watching your sworn enemy get away with it and not being able to retaliate. It’s watching others get what you want and being so close he ought to be able to get the same, get _more_. It’s not knowing what game he’s playing and feeling suspiciously like he’s losing.

It’s all very selfish, he knows, but he was raised to be and old habits are hard to shake.

“I can see that this is only fun for me and not for you,” Aladdin sighs, tossing a piece of ill gotten yet overpaid candy in his mouth. Jay’s chewing on his piece quietly, doesn’t see reason to refuse the sweet now that Aladdin has it. It’s kind of weird, more nuts and less chocolate than the sweets at school, but the more he eats the more flavor grows on him. He’ll bring some back for the others to try once he’s free from the Sultan’s company.

“Oh! Here, let me buy you something,” Aladdin perks up, and steers them into the direction of the _gold shop_ that had taken all of Jay’s willpower to avoid yesterday. He wants to give Aladdin the slip, turn around and head back to the palace where he can hole away from the Sultan’s cunning grin and evil temptations, but it would be impolite, Evie chides in his head, to leave now. Plus given how they’d met, Jay might be hard pressed to escape without Aladdin noticing and catching up. This is his city, after all.

“It’s tradition for a young man to give his lover a gold token when he wants to propose,” Aladdin waggles his brows suggestively. “And for that, you need gold.”

“L-lover?” Jay sputters, and hopes it’s too dark to see his suddenly burning face. “I don’t—I mean I totally _do_ —”

“For later,” he assuages. “Besides, even without the tradition, gold’s gold.”

Jay can’t argue with that.

Attendants man the glass cases, available to pull out whatever catches their eye. The glass doesn’t _look_ enchanted, but it must be otherwise Jay could probably smash through and take, even bare-handed, and they wouldn’t make it that easy, would they?

They browse the selection of pocket watches, wristwatches, necklaces, earrings, bracelets, an even wider assortment of various body piercings—all the jewelry one could want to adorn themselves completely in gold and then some, and Aladdin pesters Jay to try them on. Jay doesn’t think he could control himself, should it be put in his hand, so he refuses with clenched fists and shies away from Aladdin’s attempts to drape him with anything.

“Maybe not the dangly kind since it could get caught in your hair, but a small earring? You do wear studs—”

“No,” Jay says, final, unable to help himself from twisting one of the two earrings in his ears, his best score.

They’d caught the light on the barge just so, glinting among the muck, and Jay’d had to fight off two others for them, had pushed one over the edge into crocodile-infested waters (served them right).

The ruby red, like the snake-eyed gems of Jafar’s staff, had garnered his father’s begrudging approval.

“That’s my boy,” he'd said once, and never again. But he’d let him keep them, which spoke much louder than his words.

Mal’d teased and distracted him from the pain of Evie sticking her sewing needle through and the constant bleeding and pus from infection afterwards was all worth it to have these two gems on him.

But there’s only so much Jay can refuse before he realizes they’re not leaving without something, Aladdin trying to buy his way into his good graces.

“It just needs to be…simpler,” he relents, and Aladdin nods, repeating the requirement to the employee.

Jay looks back a little wistfully at the gold shop, where the comforting presence of so much gold was an agonizing temptation, and runs his thumb along the band of the gold ring on his finger, the “gift” that Aladdin indebted him with.

“Ooh, very traditional,” he’d teased, and Jay didn’t bother to correct him. There’s no way anyone could get the jump on him to steal something from his hand, and the metal is sure to break skin the next time he throws a punch, but yes, it is also traditional.

“So, what did you have,” Jay asks as they walk, and Aladdin perks up that Jay is the one initiating conversation. “To give to the Sultana? Your gold gift for your lover.” He couldn’t care less, but he does want to know what grand item he’d bestowed on the princess to win her heart. Jafar’d told him about the vast riches Aladdin’d stolen in the desert, enough to make him a prince worthy of a princess, and though it makes him jealous, he wants to know more about what had been in that legendary treasure trove.

Aladdin falters, his grin slipping into a grimace. “I didn’t give her jewelry,” he murmurs. “Wasn’t aware of the custom. But! I gave her so much more instead,” he winks. At Jay’s lips curled in disgust, he laughs. “Not like that! I showed her _a whole new world_ ,” he sings. “Wait, that doesn’t sound how I meant. I took her _on a magic carpet ride_ —that’s not any better, is it?” Jay stifles a laugh, unable to help himself, and Aladdin grins wider.

“There it is! Was starting to worry you didn’t have a funny bone. Jafar was always so serious, it’d suck if you inherited his dull, no-nonsense personality,” he laughs, and Jay schools his expression back to neutral. Aladdin was trying to lower his guard, and Jay knew better than to get friendly with the enemy. 

“Sorry, I ought to know not to compare to fathers,” Aladdin sobers, and Jay doesn’t respond. Aladdin’s shoulders droop a little in defeat before he straightens again, somehow with even more energy. “C’mon, I’m sure you’ll love this!”

\---

The street Aladdin takes him next is lit in red.

Scantily clad men and women drape themselves over entrances, beckoning with come hither looks and gestures.

He gulps and bites his lip. Yeah, he’s _sure_ to love this. He should’ve known Aladdin’d know more about his reputation than just being a liar and a thief.

But luckily, Jay's finally caught on to the game that Aladdin’s playing, even if it has taken all night.

It _is_ a Goodness Test, seeing if he truly is as good as he claims to be. Aladdin’s seeing if any of these vices will get Jay to show his true colors. It’s much more subtle than the textbook quizzes from Fairy Godmother, but it _is_ a real world test, so of course it would be harder. He wishes one of the others were here so he could copy their answers, but Jay’s on his own.

Aladdin’s tested his greed plenty, with a variety of goods to tempt his sticky fingers, and now he’s testing his other morals and impulses. Lucky for Jay, his biggest vice is his greed and they seem to have moved past that. The rest of tonight should be easy. Maybe.

Aladdin glances at Jay and sees his troubled expression.

“It’s consensual, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Jay scoffs, as if he’d believe that.

“People have base desires and want to have a good time,” Aladdin shrugs. “That in and of itself is not wrong. But _you_ , my friend, are underage so we’re not going anywhere near there.” Jay looks around them and raises a brow.

“We’re passing through, it’s a shortcut.” How convenient, that this street so happens to be a shortcut, but Aladdin keeps walking, so Jay presumes he’s passed this trial without any hiccups.

“…Didn’t know Auradon had this kind of thing,” Jay mutters as they spill out into the normal, picturesque part of town, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Feels too…”

“Evil?” Aladdin finishes. “Yeah, that exists even in the land of happily ever afters. But that back there isn’t what you’re thinking. Everyone has food and shelter outside of what they do there, no one is forced to do anything. It’s an occupation, same as everything else.”

Jay shrugs, feigning agreement. That’s what they all say.

Aladdin doesn’t take his response lightly, his eyes alighting with fire, and shit, Jay’s seen the same expression on Ben’s face dozens of times. Speech time.

“I know you don’t believe me but it’s true. I—everyone in Agrabah’s been focusing on improving our quality of life ever since Jas took the crown. Agrabah was a bit of a shit-show back in the day, and it wasn’t even all Jafar’s fault,” Aladdin admits. “Though it is convenient to pin it all on one scape-goat.”

“There were some long-held beliefs and traditions that enabled a man like that to be in a position of power, and my life before Jasmine wasn’t unusual. Jas and I worked hard to make Agrabah a better place, and I think we did. Sure it’s not perfect, nowhere is, but we, and everyone in Agrabah, have worked to make it a place to be proud to call home.”

Jay isn’t sure if he’s supposed to clap or cheer or what, he usually has the others’ responses he can mimic, and Aladdin takes his silence as a cue to continue. “I’m sorry, Jay, I really am.” Jay’s eyes narrow as he tries to _look_ through Aladdin. The apology is startling and not the usual speech material, which puts him on his guard. While Ben has apologized for his parents’ deeds repeatedly, despite it not being his fault, the other nobility that visit Auradon Prep haven’t been so forthcoming. Apologies seem to be just as rare in Auradon as they are on the Isle.

“My focus was centered on Agrabah, it’s my entire world. I’d say if only I’d known I could have done something, I of all people can understand being wrongfully judged for your lineage, but I wouldn’t want to hear excuses so I bet you don’t either.”

No, Jay doesn’t. Aladdin’s platitudes wash over him without sinking in, but he nods.

“Anyways, we’re here—” Aladdin gestures to a shop with an ice cream cone on the sign at the same time Jay stifles a yawn. “Oh jeez,” Aladdin mutters, and looks up at the sky. “Sorry, you’ve had a long day, haven’t you? Heard you were up before the sun.”

Jay doesn't like that he knows that, that they were keeping tabs on him in the palace to report back to the higher ups, but it’s sensible and he shouldn’t have expected otherwise.

He hadn’t felt watchful eyes on him when he’d wandered the halls alone this morning, but clearly someone’d seen him and found him suspicious.

“You’re still a growing kid and I shouldn’t be keeping you out this late,” Aladdin admits. “Dessert can wait,” he says responsibly, though he sounds disappointed. Jay nods, eager for the opportunity to leave.

“It’s been kind of a long day, Aladdin,” he forces out, and Aladdin leads him back in the direction of the palace.

Aladdin’s quieter on the way back without temptations he can take Jay to and Jay enjoys deflecting his few attempts at conversation with the excuse that he’s tired, content to walk in uncomfortable silence.

Aladdin leads him down the palace halls, escorts him to his room, and Jay finds a bit of satisfaction in closing the door midway through his hasty “Goodnight!”

He collapses on the bed, exhausted from the games Aladdin’d played the last few hours, but he’s relieved. He’s pretty sure he passed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't even look at me smh the only fic i write is people talking and walking i guess. whatever i'll be back in a few months ✌️


End file.
